


Like Him

by Jelevy (YogurtTime)



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band), SixTONES (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Bad Puns, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Light Drinking, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13420377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YogurtTime/pseuds/Jelevy
Summary: Juri navigates his position in a broader world now in the shadow of his brother's career and it spurs his curiosity about a few things.





	Like Him

**Author's Note:**

> So this is naturally dedicated to many of the long-time wishes on my Twitter timeline asking for Denden 2.0 and/or NakaNaka 2.0 so I gave you both. My initial plan was for there to be a scene with each member aside from Koki of course but the characters, my blundering headcanons and my existential crisis wouldn't cooperate. Here it is. Hope you enjoy.

Half the pull of being in show business was really how Tanaka Juri’s older brother had looked when he was on camera. Plainly put, the sequined outfits, hairspray, and flashing flames under broad lights didn’t seem like a thing on those mornings before Juri was off to school. He’d sit at the kitchen table groggily sipping at miso soup and blinking a little wonderingly at the sight of Koki sprawled on the couch in just his boxers, distressed jeans and accessories discarded in a mess their mum would scold him for the moment she woke up. Visibly rough and hungover and tapping away on his phone; he’d catch Juri’s eye and pull a goofy face.

_Don’t grow up to be like him, Juri_

Seemed kinda weird to look at Koki on stage after that and feel a strange sprig of awe or even weirder that he _wanted_ to be just like him. It had to be because his obnoxious, funny, loud big brother who came home when everyone was sleeping, who literally cried at the end of Ghibli films and yelled when someone took the last piece of meat really looked like a whole other being when he was standing in a frame of light with five-no, wait, four...others who shone like a series of contrasting vibes calling itself KAT-TUN.

Juri knew KAT-TUN now. Curiosity had pulled him in the way those glimmering lights adoring his big brother would. And Juri, feeling a little regular at times when he was going at the daily grind of being a Johnnys junior, liked to think KAT-TUN was full of irregulars.

When things went bad for his big brother, for their family. Legacy became a conditional object in the face of what the media said about him; there was a new question on people’s lips for Juri that only the more self-righteous felt all right asking when they looked him in the eye.

_Who is your role model in Johnnys?_

They meant him to reply like it mattered, like his own life was just a series of bigger footprints in a broad stretch of snow he was meant to use to walk so he wouldn’t sink. It didn’t really matter but Juri hated being played with.

“KAT-TUN,” he’d say, smiling at them winningly.

There was something there; they knew. Something said yet something firmly unsaid and when you’ve got a camera to love you, you can’t choose sides. KAT-TUN was set firmly on the fence, still touched by the stain of not being just right and practically complicit with remaining affections. He didn’t even mean KAT-TUN like the idea created by their company or even the titles of it he’d catch on posters and ads under names like a title in stages. He was thinking of his brother’s friends, older men and tangram pieces of his brother’s life landscape. Juri knew there was something there. He knew they were like him.

He knew it the first time Nakamaru-kun came for him alone. It was a month after his brother was fired. Nakamaru-kun had always liked to buy him cakes, crépes and sweet breakfast foods with fruit in them but this time he showed up outside their NHK dressing room with a white box of creme puffs tucked under an arm and a firmly unreadable look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner,” Nakamaru-kun told him plainly, looking down through a soft-eyed gaze. Juri felt like he was made of ceramic when Nakamaru-kun touched him; it was difficult not to feel a little fragile when hard delicate fingers gripped his shoulder in a faint possessive hold. “I was thinking we might go for a drive?”

Koki used to bring Nakamaru-kun around and Juri used to sit as open-mouthed audience to the two of them sitting in the back garden beatboxing and rapping. He remembered laughing himself to tears sometimes when they got to riffing off each other, landing joke after joke. Then there was the occasions where Nakamaru-kun would stop him in the halls of the jimusho just to tell him to ‘work hard,’ to aim a curiously funny comment, or even just to give him a box of truffles, he claimed he didn’t want.

Juri followed Nakamaru-kun without thinking, but it wasn’t until he got in his car that he realised he wasn’t ready for this conversation. The bile of guilty looks and judgements were still fresh in his stomach and Koki’s apologies must have stung when they weren’t whispered under the safety of where family stood without question or under Kazunaru’s even sharper remonstrances over the dinner table.

“ _How can you say you did it for me; you should have told me it was getting you in trouble!”_

_“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I thought it would be OK.”_

It was stupid; all of it. Why couldn’t his brothers have had something that was their own?

As Nakamaru silently drove them out of the lot, Juri tore open the box and bit into a cream-filled profiterole to keep from having to speak and the sugar was like salt in his throat. They hit the expressway and Juri ate what was possibly three; he didn’t ask where they were going.

It was when he smoothly pulled into the top floor parkade of a shopping outlet and steered into a slot on the edge of the roof that Juri looked at him. Something about the isolation of their looking out at the city and the empty stretches of cars behind them made him feel a little more at ease.

Nakamaru was watching him; hadn’t made a single motion to switch off the car; only the heater hummed in their silence as Juri took another cream puff and ate it in one bite. “Thank you,” he mumbled to Nakamaru’s quiet.

“Don’t worry about it,” was the succinct reply, voiced in a low velvet tone like comforting strokes.

Juri swallowed and finally dared himself to look at him. “He said you’d be angry…that I shouldn’t--”

Nakamaru was sitting a bit sideways and his hands were folded on his knees, shoulder to the back of his seat. “Well, he doesn’t know how I feel.” The statement would have been colder coming from anyone else, but from Nakamaru-kun, it was languid and a little placating. “I wanted to tell you that nothing will change for you--”

Juri made a face. “Everything’s changed for me. I can’t make it a day without someone asking me something stupid.” He was trying to speak politely but it was hard when the words were stuttering out of him like vitriol and Nakamaru-kun had a way of making things seem easier. “I don’t know how to tell you or anyone else that all I care about is moving on; why should anyone know if I’m--if I’m...

A hand reached out to brush a set of knuckles over his shoulder, close to his collarbone and sweeping to the back of his neck. He’d seen him do this to Koki. A strange demonstrative and practiced gesture of a man who was used to taking care of people. “I said I _wanted_ to tell you that nothing will change, but rationally I know that’s not true. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since... and I don’t approve of making extravagant promises, but you can come to me when you want.”

Juri wiped some stray sugar off his mouth and looked out at the low grey clouds promising snow and maybe the prospect of more cold. He was warm in Nakamaru’s company though and he marveled a bit at how it was so casual; Nakamaru-kun’s thumb brushing his throat.

He smiled a little; it was really sweet actually. “I thought you’d be angry too, to be honest…”

A stiff shrug followed this. “I consider anger a secondary emotion and it isn’t static. It plays in and out mixed with all the other things that caused it. I’m sad too...but perhaps not as much as you are. So…” Juri looked up at him again when he felt a tentative touch up his nape, familiar. He really got what all the fuss was about; why his big brother used to bring him home all the time when Juri was a kid; why even though he looked like any sort of guy you’d see walking around Omotesando, he was really kind of a knock-out when you watched his subtle gestures and he looked at you like the world could be terrifying but he could guarantee how safe you were. Juri could see himself gushing about him the way Koki used to; his own normal senpai with sharp, gloomy statements and long looks of warmth.

He felt a little silly thinking that but his chest felt like it’d burst if he didn’t at least act out a little. “So Nakamaru-kun is here to comfort me?” he prompted, feeling the crackle of something unsure between them when he shifted to face him, leaning back a little into Nakamaru’s touch.

Of course he’d noticed Nakamaru’s lips before, watched them--full and deep-coloured as they were-- lay out long special speeches; he’d seen Koki make secret contact when he thought they were alone in just a fingerprint over the satin ridge on the curve of Nakamaru’s mouth. Juri grinned properly when Nakamaru’s eyes squinted in a sudden indecision, seemingly unaware that they were practically an inch away from each other.

“When you make that face...it’s _so_ him.”

There was something hurt and bitter in that and suddenly nothing about his senpai seemed at all simple.

“I can call you, ‘Yucchi’ if you want,” he began, licking his lips feeling awash with heat and not sure exactly what was happening to him aside from the pinpricks behind his eyes even as he laughed a little at Nakamaru’s sudden frown.

“Juri-kun…” in the most helplessly amused tone.

He closed his eyes when Yucchi-kun leaned in. He let him pull him closer, a testing tug against his nape and he was aware that his mouth was probably still sticky with sugar but Yucchi-kun didn’t seem to mind. He pressed a soft touch of his lips on Juri’s like he wasn’t sure he was about to. All the chagrin breathed out of him when that kiss began because he was immediately overwhelmed by how jittery he felt, nervous like he’d never kissed anyone before. Maybe it was the way it was; how Yucchi opened his mouth for him, gently bringing his fingertips to Juri’s jaw and nudging his lips apart. “I’m so sorry,” Yucchi whispered over his lower lip, already breathing him in and Juri felt light headed all of a sudden and had to grip the leather of the car seat.

“Don’t be?” he heard himself murmur a little desperately because god, if he stopped now… It was just that after years of seeing him as just careful, guarded senpai Yucchi-kun, the taste of him was spectacularly new. A brand new and complete stranger he might have dreamt about now slipping a tongue in his mouth and making a soft sound when Juri instinctively arched into him. The contact made them both shiver a little Juri felt up the oddly shaped buttons of Yucchi’s open coat as his fingers tentatively brushed up his chest and grabbed his lapels for balance.

The heater buzzed on and Juri was out of breath when Yucchi pulled away, deeply longing stare burnt with a strange sort of pain. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, but his hands smoothed down Juri’s back and got a good grip on the hem of his shirt.

Juri couldn’t keep the snap out of his tone. “OK but maybe I need this too, y’know?”

Yucchi actually breathed out a rough laugh and bent his head against Juri’s shoulder in a shaking moment of resignation. Juri’s body melted forward into Yucchi’s now open palms, let him make the curve of his back, let him feel with direct contact how that made him _feel_. It was with a question that Juri slipped a hand over the cotton of Yucchi’s shirt and touched at the hem and his answer came in the form of a voiced breath and something that could have been an expletive, exhaled hotly right on his tongue.

Juri took over the kiss easily; marveled a bit how Yucchi let him; a simple little moan and Yucchi leaned back, let Juri tease his tongue along his while reaching to get a real good grip of Juri’s hips, lifting him a little out of his seat and more onto his lap. Juri had to brace himself on the steering wheel which forced a tiny bit of distance, but it didn’t matter because he had a hand around Yucchi’s belt buckle.

“Oh,” said Yucchi-kun.

OK. He was all nerves and he kept expecting Yucchi to stop him, but the thrill of it, of feeling like it could end at any point made Juri feel like taking a risk. This wasn’t anything like his fun, silly, but clumsy fumbles in the dark under blankets with Shintaro; this was a little bit like the first time he’d sat on Koki’s Yamaha and dared himself to grip the handles and squeeze, determined to feel like he knew what he was doing.

He was still hanging onto the top of Yucchi’s steering wheel so he was struggling a bit trying to unhook Yucchi’s buckle and he smiled into their next kiss when Yucchi’s hand came down and yanked it out of its sheath, freeing Juri to slip a hand right past the crunched up fabric of his waistline. That’s when he felt Yucchi’s hand on his wrist, grip like a stern and sudden vice.

Juri leaned away to look at him. Yucchi had a firm set to his mouth then and his eyes narrowed. “Juri-kun…” He sounded so matter-of-fact and dour, it actually made Juri’s heart do a bit of a leap. He couldn’t bring himself to respond so he simply waited as Yucchi’s hard grip on his wrist softened and a finger stroked the underside of his forearm, placating all over again. “...if this is your first time…?”

Startled, Juri laughed. If he knew…

“It really isn’t, senpai,” he mumbled, trying not to drop his gaze. He felt somehow that any sign of shyness would have this over in a second and Yucchi was surveying him, burning brown gaze touching on every aspect of his face and Juri didn’t think it was possible to find someone so much older than him so attractive.

It was smoother after that. It was as if every shaky wall between them started to crumble because Yucchi leaned right back against the driver’s side window when Juri kissed him so hard it hurt and he felt the guide of Yucchi’s hips dip up toward him when he felt the tight line of his underwear, swept his thumb just under-- a nice teasing touch that made a shudder go between them--before Yucchi closed his eyes and rested his weight back which gave Juri all the room he needed.

Maybe it was the touch of it, already half-hard and firming under the massage of his fingers, but he had the idea in his head already, especially as he was already kneeling with the stick-shift between his knees, grateful it was set to park-- the notion of doing it to Yucchi had him so riled it was overwhelming. He wanted to suck him off.

Yucchi’s skin was flushed and he got darker where Juri wanted to touch and this position made him feel in complete control. The windows were already fogged when he crouched over his senpai, held him in one hand and closed his mouth right on his cock. He licked the head like he knew he would’ve liked and flattened his tongue as he sank his head down. He only let it reach the middle of his tongue before he breathed evenly through his nose and then sucked. It must have been the very perfect thing because Yucchi’s hands went right from his sides to Juri’s hair, fingers interlaced in the roots at the very top of his head and pushed him back down. Juri gasped a breath and sunk down again, sucked harder and he would always remember how Yucchi sounded; the growl in his throat like a shaking ache and Juri felt like he tasted it when he took him all the way in.

That set Yucchi off; his angular fingers swept through Juri’s hair, clutched the back of his head and he started a rhythm, and Juri didn’t know he’d like that until he was slack-jawed, mouth watering as Yucchi fucked his mouth from the bottom. It was messy as hell, the head of Yucchi’s cock scraping his soft palate but Juri shot Yucchi a glance and caught him watching him, practically drinking him in, lips bitten and seemed to love that more and damn, but Juri was ready to give him all that and everything he had in him.

He was sure he heard Yucchi utter some sort of warning, but in the blur of his gaze and the rush of imagining what it’d be like having Yucchi rock like this, right up against him in all the flurry of wants he could picture in just having him like this, he didn’t register until he felt it hot on his tongue. Juri let him go with an obscene sound off his lips, mouth full. He tried to do it smoothly but he might have slipped on the dashboard twice as he twisted to open the door and spit all of it out.

“I’m… so sorry, Juri-kun-- tried to tell you…”

Juri straightened, licking the corner of his mouth reflexively. “Nah, I know; I just don’t swallow,” he told him and felt an immediate flush when Yucchi looked suddenly scandalised, which was rich considering he was lying half-sprawled on his front seat with his dick out.

“Yucchi…” Juri began, hoped his begging didn’t sound too childish.

A long-suffering sigh, razing affection as he pulled Juri toward him, hot with afterglow and touch languid enough to get Juri hard and a little rough when he pressed himself too insistently on Yucchi’s leg. “What a brat,” Yucchi murmured into a newer, wetter kiss. “Let me take care of you then.”

\- - -

Juri didn’t think it through all that much. After his encounter with Yucchi-kun, he felt a glow for days and he kind of revelled in the shy smiles and hot looks he’d catch when their paths crossed in the jimusho. He thought it was fine as it was, really; their own little secret and maybe one day when Yucchi came for him again, they’d have more time...

The fact was he hadn’t been _planning_ to deal with any of KAT-TUN much after that, but there was no avoiding someone when everything he did as a junior and with his group was in some capacity tied to their senpai.

It was a shitty excuse. Taguchi-kun had left the jimusho months before Juri had his little run-in with him.

His memories of Taguchi-kun being around were much more pronounced. He was seventeen at the time anyway and Koki let him tag along on a few outings. The most predominate memory Juri had of him was the time they all three went for street cart oden after a long walk. Juri usually brought his iPod with him on these walks because Koki and Taguchi-kun’s conversations were weird and cyclical.

Koki plucked Juri’s earbud out suddenly, looking inexplicably furious about something.

“Well?”

Being put on the spot made Juri babble sometimes, but that might have been Koki’s intent. “I don’t know? What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

Koki bit back a smile at him. “Hey, shithead!” he called off ahead of them. The target of this verbal assault was already taking a seat at a picnic table in what Juri had long noticed was one of his many performative gestures, long endless legs folded one over the other as he twisted to lounge backward, elbows against the table surface.

“Mm?” Taguchi-kun offered, removing his shades with a familiar supply of grace, shaking them shut in one hand. No one in all the history of Juri had anyone responded to one of Koki’s fiery attacks like he’d just been asked for an autograph. Juri was pretty sure he’d just found a hero.

“He wasn’t listening to you the whole way here,” said Koki, much calmer in his satisfaction.

Juri was mortified. Hadn’t known Taguchi-kun had been speaking to him. “I was--”

Taguchi-kun burst out laughing, and smiled at Juri like he was flinging something gold at him he ought to catch. “Juri, don’t be mean to me like your brother,” he simpered a bit.

“You’re scaring him,” Koki supplied, hand on Juri’s shoulder as they approached until Juri was standing much closer to the tips of Taguchi-kun’s expensive looking high-tops.

Juri wriggled away a bit, terribly uncomfortable with the black-eyed stare over a smile like a bright thief so fixed on him right then. “I’m not scared…”

Taguchi-kun chortled. “What do you think of me then?”

Koki muttered something that sounded like a string of words that’d make their mum angry.

Juri shrugged and looked at Koki as the words kind of fell out of his mouth, “You’re sort of cool.”

He’d never seen Koki make a face like that. It was like distaste mixed with a lot more gratification, but his eyebrows twitched down just as a peal of laughter rang out of Taguchi-kun. Juri glanced back at him, his ears hot under his hair.

“I can teach you a lot, you know?” Taguchi-kun sang in dulcet tones and something about that made Juri turn on his heel and walk toward the oden stand like it called him. The guy was terrifying. His reaction got a laugh from both of them and Juri resolved to keep his distance. He didn’t like getting spooked.

“He’s...really terrible,” Koki had told him emphatically once in the later days of his career with KAT-TUN. “I don’t know; maybe he just doesn’t know how to be a human being sometimes but that’s what makes me feel like I gotta take care of him.”

Juri didn’t understand it. Couldn’t really navigate years of a push and pull like that because to him, after paging through directories of contacts, stylists, and music producers, three drinks and a semi-genuine query about billiards, Taguchi-kun seemed very human to him.

They were in a hotel suite. Taguchi-kun had ordered it, explaining simply that it was in Juri’s best interest. It wouldn’t be good for him with the company if anyone saw them together.

“I rarely get time for a little private party like this,” Taguchi-kun delivered candidly, waving a hand with a sharp white gold ring on his index finger that stood out the way everything on him had to. “It’s all right to savour things like this, I think.”

Juri didn’t know or care what he was talking about. He was dead gone on the taste of real Crown Ambassador beer and the fact that he was sure Taguchi-kun had ordered it to impress him. That was all right.

They were sitting on the edge of a pretty wide bedspread and room service had brought in enough dried fruits and weird cheeses that Juri felt a little bit less embarrassed because Taguchi-kun really was ridiculous and full of gestures that Juri liked in the way he’d learnt to like LED lights and costumes with glass sewn right into them.

“Remember when you said you could teach me a lot?” he prompted in the middle of Taguchi-kun’s drawling sentence about-- what was it?

Taguchi-kun’s dark crescent eyes dropped like a stone in a pool of water on him, once distracted by his own easy chatter, now a more focused and observing reproach. “Juri-kun,” he began after a truly pregnant, contemplative pause. “How did you come to find me in the first place?”

Juri sat up straight, made sure not to break eye contact even as he took a new sip of the deep, oaky beer in his glass. He didn’t reply on purpose, wanted in some way that Taguchi-kun would note how different he was from the boy he used to tease and commiserate.

“Hmm,” Taguchi-kun went on, stretched out the sound like a song and a question.

Juri smiled at him.

Taguchi-kun got up in one fluid movement and Juri felt his whole body tense like he’d scared some sort of jungle cat but his senpai’s returning smile was simple as he moved for the food service cart and picked up the neck of the Crown Ambassador bottle and poured himself another glass, knocking it back in a sharp, clean swallow. Juri quickly finished his and knew he was being cheeky when he held his glass out for a refill.

Juri watched the line of Taguchi-kun’s frame as he twisted to set down the bottle with his glass and walked in a sleek motion toward him. He made as if just to take the glass but instead his other broad hand clasped Juri’s arm in a grip so deliberately delicate in fingers that looked like they could probably snap him Juri felt like he’d been propositioned something much less innocent.

Taguchi-kun’s smile was still in place, now much more laughing, but Juri was fixated on his eyes, still black under the warm hotel room lights and preternaturally empty all at once. “Does he know you’re here?”

Juri knew the ‘he’ he was referring to. Knew that despite all he didn’t understand about whatever had fallen between the both of them over four years ago, he understood the pressure in the question, worded so plainly like any other words about it might be like lava coming straight from Taguchi-kun’s chest.

“No,” Juri said, blinking at the ice that flooded into Taguchi-kun’s features, odd and marble in the way his smile sunk and the teeth in his words had a violence to it.

“You wanna put me in trouble?” A careful cadence, playful as his fingers drew away from Juri’s skin and took the glass clean out of his loose grip.

Juri’s throat was dry and he felt trembly all over. “No...no of course not. Taguchi-kun’s ads are all over the city and I thought about you…”

The glass base hit the night table with a finalizing clunk, empty and ringing faint in a room now practically vanished as Juri’s back hit the mattress under Taguchi-kun’s palm. “Good,” was murmured all at once against his naked throat, bared as his body reacted to the quick and alarming weight of Taguchi climbing the bed to straddle him. “Because I was hoping to put some trouble in _you_.”

Juri thought things had changed; that he’d grown up. Twenty-one and counting a brave list of life experiences under his belt and all at once, seized with a shiver under Taguchi-kun’s expressive mouth, he was made aware that he hadn’t a single clue what he was in for.

Taguchi-kun’s chuckle at his own joke jolted him back to reality at the very least and Juri bit his lip, let Taguchi-kun drag his hands above his head and pin them there. He knew he wanted what Taguchi-kun had to offer and there was something jagged in him that was untouched that he only felt when Taguchi-kun’s left knee slipped between his thighs and nudged his right leg to bend against his chest where he felt an immediate and demanding contact even through his jeans of his senpai’s growing erection in a very tender spot. Juri couldn’t stop himself rolling his hips into it, aware of how the shape of it dredged a perfect, singing line up the curve of his ass. At the sound of Taguchi-kun’s broken exhale, Juri felt braver and he strained against the hold on his wrists, arching himself in a restisting shape and twisting while pressing his spread-eagled body in a blazing, hard rush against his.

“Looks like there’s not much to teach you, is there?” Taguchi-kun murmured wonderingly, leaning up to nuzzle his nose against Juri’s jaw. It was like he was moving to kiss him but kept tearing himself away, instead rocking harder as he grit his teeth against Juri’s pulse and Juri was already panting into the warm air. He could smell the liquor between them, hot and thick, but Juri’s head was clear, thinking how much he’d wanted this but hadn’t even known what this was.

Taguchi-kun’s tongue dipped along his clavicle, ran down and played at the buttons of his shirt, a glimmering shaking hot line only broken every time Juri and Taguchi-kun thrust together.

“I want to fuck you, Juri-kun,” he breathed into his skin like he was smoke, tandeming an off rhythm and Juri was wet with him, felt the sweat on him forming and cooling only in places where Taguchi-kun hadn’t touched him yet. “I’m gonna let you go--just don’t--”

The moment Taguchi-kun let go of his wrist, Juri-- a second youngest brother more than familiar with the fundamentals of wrestling with someone bigger than him--used the propulsion of pressing his palm back against the end of the bed and the way Taguchi-kun’s legs were wrapped around his to force him on his back. Taguchi-kun blinked up at him in surprise, looking both amused and punchdrunk all at once just as Juri sat right on him. Juri shrugged at his voiceless question and started unbuttoning his own shirt and Taguchi-kun did the same.

“I like this better,” Taguchi-kun told him earnestly., shifting himself so he could shake his sleeves off his shoulders.

“Same,” was Juri’s staggered reply when he set to work with the button on his jeans as Taguchi-kun stretched under him comfortably, slipping out of his slacks under Juri’s thighs.

Once Juri was naked, Taguchi-kun spanned his hips with his palms, curved a welcoming hold on each side until Juri lowered himself down on him. Juri hovered, fingers curled in the pillows by Taguchi-kun’s head, their lips didn’t touch but Juri could practically taste him, and that mixed with the gorgeous slide of Taguchi-kun’s skin under him made their silence and proximity so tempting, but it felt like Taguchi-kun was waiting, a strange uncertain patience suddenly

Juri fell into him, a sharp inhale following the touch of his mouth on Taguchi-kun’s. The dry slide of Taguchi-kun’s cock up his ass as he rocked welcomed a new rhythm as Juri’s tongue licked into his senpai’s mouth. They were going so fast and Taguchi-kun’s hands were on his ass, spreading him, making his knees slide along the silk of the bed cover. It made him want it all the more and he pressed back into the touch of Taguchi-kun’s cock, trembled when Taguchi-kun growled over his lips.

“I want it in me,” he heard himself whimper, every limb shaking and his fingers already hurting from clenching so hard into the fabric of the pillows.

“The lube’s in my suitcase,” Taguchi-kun whispered.

Juri slid off him reluctantly and sat back on his knees as Taguchi-kun got up to slip off the bed. If Juri hadn’t already appreciated the formed lines of muscle on Taguchi-kun’s body when he was clothed, Juri probably would have been floored just then. Of course Taguchi-kun didn’t seem to mind at all, fully comfortable to walk to the couch in the corner and pull open his bag, loved by every light in the room.

Taguchi-kun turned to return to him, a smaller pack in hand he moved to set on the pillows but he paused and Juri watched the tightened expanse of Taguchi-kun’s thighs and stomach, took in the way his skin looked lickable and then back to the features of the man that used to kind of scare him.

“You’re lovely to look at like this, Juri-kun,” Taguchi-kun sighed, a genuine wistful burn in his tone and Juri was speechless.

He felt like he was being too pushy, but he tugged Taguchi-kun back into bed with him, pushed him back down on his back and closed his mouth over jutting contours of Taguchi-kun’s chest, sliding up him and sobbing at the touch of his cock up the soft give of his stomach.

“Do you want to ride me?” was the question hissed over his head when he licked the pulsing beat of Taguchi-kun’s throat, felt his voice vibrate under his tongue.

“OK…” he replied unsteadily, shaking all over again, marveling that Taguchi-kun already had his fingers wet and was sliding a sticky touch behind him. Juri hands slid up the pillows to the headboard for balance as Taguchi-kun lifted him with a grab to his ass, circled his rim with one hard finger and Juri stopped being able to think. He dizzily looked down at the man under him, realised his whole body was undulating faintly and that Taguchi-kun was watching him greedily, teasing more insistent touches along the edges of him, pushing down. Juri quaked out a low moan, sucking in his lip when another hand wrapped around his cock, massaged up his shaft while Taguchi slipped in.

“Rock into it, Juri-kun. I wanna feel like you want it.”

That set him on fire with complete shivers as his fists closed like vices on the wood of the headboard. He did as Taguchi-kun asked him, rolled so the fingers just touching and padding a stretch on just the inside of his rim slipped in, hard and pulling him apart inside out. Juri panted, pausing, a little alarmed to be in control as Taguchi didn’t move at all, just let him work the pace.

“You can go faster, can’t you?” Old commiseration in his tone; a faint mocking challenge and Juri grit his teeth.

“Shut up!” he snapped instinctively, and despite the immediate flush of mortification that shot up his back, Taguchi-kun laughed, low and smug, squeezing his cock tighter, now running a thumb along the head swiftly and Juri shut his eyes and rocked even faster. There was a lot of lubricant and he could feel it in the way he stretched, his thighs already burning but a liquid in it, the lack of resistance made him arch his whole body and reach back, get fingers around Taguchi-kun’s erect cock and press it, from the shaft to the head along the wetness of his rim; a more graphic invitation.

Taguchi-kun groaned his name softly, a faint helpless muttering and Juri really liked that, and he hiked himself up, almost crouching as Taguchi-kun’s fingers fell away and cupped the base of his cock, waiting as Juri lowered himself right on him. His thighs shook as he felt him sink in, but Juri clenched his jaw, humming out his own little growl as Taguchi-kun grabbed his ass again.

“Juri… please,” Taguchi-kun sobbed when Juri went still and that was another thing there, the begging. He was definitely into it.

It felt like a razing thin climax between them, Juri reaching back up to grip the headboard as Taguchi-kun’s palms spread his cheeks and he slid upward, calves strained at the position but Juri persisted, only deciding when he was good and ready to take him in again. The intensity of the wait was doubled by the clench of muscle under Taguchi-kun’s skin from his stomach up his chest as he appeared to keep perfect control of himself and not thrust up into him until Juri set the pace.

And he did. Juri loved the challenge in it and how good it felt doing it, he relished the curl of Taguchi-kun’s fingers and the way his body went as hard as steel under him while Juri rocked, angled himself so it hit just right; and he swore loudly. There was a freedom in it, fucking himself on Taguchi-kun’s cock, bit his lips as the discomfort became a hard lancing pressure. He twisted his hips and Taguchi-kun’s head fell back in the pillows as his features twisted in beautiful agony, and Juri moaned right through a wince at the dig of blunt fingernails in his back. He kept at it, speeding up and slamming himself down because he’d found it; if he came down at just the right angle, the lick of Taguchi’s cock inside him, blazing a barely-there itch that made his whole body feel like it was made of sex.

Taguchi-kun seemed to love the torture of Juri’s rhythm because he kept himself still, simply clinging to him in one sharp hold, watching Juri ride him hard and get himself off using Taguchi-kun’s body like this. Juri felt it rise in him and he fucked through it, was aware of Taguchi-kun’s steady gaze, watching his sharp breaths turn to helpless voiced pleas, wanting to get there. It was like his senpai had been waiting for that cue, for Juri’s single-minded moment of near-bliss before a pair of hands seized his ribs and flipped him over. Juri moaned right into the now crumbled bedclothes, face pressed wet and sweaty into sheets as Taguchi twisted their position with such a practiced motion of certainty. Juri could barely move; his muscles were jelly and he was shaking and coming just as Taguchi-kun thrust back into him, now going a mad, heady pace, fucking him right into the mattress.

He felt Taguchi-kun’s fingers on his ass, felt them spread him and touch around where the sensitive brush of his cock was sliding in, opening Juri so much as he felt his whole body come to pieces.

“Taguchi…senpai,” he whimpered, mouth open for how hard he was breathing, tears blurring his gaze, so caught up in the fleeting haunt of his orgasm still making him quiver.

Taguchi-kun worked him through it, slammed his hips harder and harder until the tension in him spiked and still he ploughed into him, twitching in off spurts as he came in Juri with an open, shameless groan, loud enough the neighboring room had to have heard.

Juri crumpled under him, but at least Taguchi-kun was kind enough not to collapse on him as well. Instead he rolled on his back and rested his head on his arms, out of breath and smiling his biggest. Juri watched him, cheek to the coverlet, sweating and shaking all over. He’d never had it this messy and he felt like a crushed weed.

It was only as their breathing slowed and Juri could feel the sweat on him cooling that he also felt Taguchi-kun run a warm hand down the line of his back, an oddly comforting sweep down the small of his spine to touch along where he was the most mess.

“How do you feel?” was the question, uttered in the smuggest tones and Juri was starting to understand why his brother used to get so shrill around him.

Juri felt languid and his muscles were finally just re-adjusting to not being pulled to within an inch of their life. “Pretty good?”

Taguchi-kun swept a hand in his hair, clearly feeling very adulated by the implied compliment as he shot a peculiarly burning look at him. “Mm? Can you really be the judge of that though?”

Juri hesitated, squinting. “What…”

Taguchi-kun’s bright black eyes rolled in their own candid way. “I’d hate to be executed for what I’ve done to you--”

Juri froze. “Senpai, wha…”

It was in his smile and if Juri knew the guy better, he would have seen it coming a mile off. “I mean, you can’t be judge, Juri, _and_ executioner.”

It was a new sort of pain that made Juri drop his face back into the sheets, fundamentally aware that the world was made up of funny little ironies when he uttered the words, “Senpai, shut _up,_ ” amid a spate of delighted laughter, louder in the room than they’d been only moments before.

\- - -

 

With the new year coming and his work doubling, Juri didn’t much have time to play around like he used to and despite meeting Taguchi-kun at various points throughout that year, he had resolved to settle down a bit and prepare for what he was sure were whispers and speculations about his group’s debut.

He knew the questions would come, the same as ever, once he was more prominent in the public eye. The first question was for himself, in all seriousness, especially over ramen one night sitting across alone with his brother Koki.

Koki; he looked like the year had aged him so much more than it had, Juri, but his goofiness was still strong as ever as he grabbed Juri’s arm jokingly.

“Sorry, thought that was a chopstick.”

Juri wriggled him off, smiling grudgingly as he slid his bowl closer to him. “I’m getting bigger every year--been training. We’re gonna debut soon; I know it.”

“Yeah?” said Koki around a mouthful of hot noodles. “Anything from management?”

Juri shrugged.

“Well. It’s always a matter of time,” Koki said at length, still smiling but at something much more private. “They’ll start to want to find out who you are, and it’ll be who you’re going to be. Don’t...let anyone decide it for you, yeah?”

Juri took a spoonful of his broth, blowing steam off in quick breaths. “How did you know?”

Koki’s forehead wrinkled at that, thoughtful. “Know…?”

“Who you were when the camera was on you?”

They rarely talked about it; not at any length or pressure, but Juri had had a lot of time to think about the landscape of his brother’s career, only second to Koki.

Finally Koki said, “You see it reflected in the people who really care about you. Even if you’re not nearly as great as they see you, it’s… it’s always that that pushes you to be better. I can see your group being that for you.”

There was a lot of pain in that and Juri hated making him look like that.

“Don’t be like me, Juri,” Koki mumbled, looking at the glare in the light because things like this always set him off, made his lips tremble and voice shake. “Just whatever you do--”

Juri swallowed his next mouthful of noodles, the heat of it stinging all the way down his throat. The faint music of Koki’s system played its riffs on and on through their silence and Juri thought about Yucchi looking at him in the cold of his car, saying he was angry and not, of the undemanding brown of his concern when he saw Juri these days. He thought of how Yucchi petted him like he was sending old severities through the cloud of time’s past, sending thoughts Koki’s way. He was thinking of Taguchi-kun, smarmy and delighted every time Juri said senpai as if some leftover vanity in his relation to Koki gave him that much more pleasure. He thought of how they kissed shadows and pleas over his skin and some morbid part of Juri wondered if Koki had ever wanted the both of them like that. Probably or probably not, but that was OK.

“Koki?”

“Yeah?”

“I already know who I’m trying to be.”

 

 


End file.
